


Crossing Lines Part 3

by eminwonderland



Series: Crossing Lines [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bearded Chris Evans, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Jealous Jensen, Light Angst, Protective Chris, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 15:36:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17185706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eminwonderland/pseuds/eminwonderland
Summary: This is an AU where Jensen is a musician and he and the reader move to LA so he can pursue a music career. A new neighbor moves into their building; an up and coming actor named Chris.





	Crossing Lines Part 3

Knock, knock, knock.

 

He’s early. You smile to yourself, leaving your mascara lolling back and forth on the counter as you walk down the hall.

 

“Excited to get-” you stop. Jensen fills the doorway with a huge smile on his face.

 

“Y/N.” He rushes in, twirling you around and setting you back on your feet.

 

“What’s going on Jay?” you ask, hoping you don’t sound as flustered as you feel.

 

“We got signed! By a major label!”

 

“That’s amazing!” you say, jumping into his arms before your mind can process what your body is doing. Frozen, his green eyes search your face for a moment before he captures your mouth in a needy kiss. Your heart swells and your lips part as the kiss deepens. He feels like home. Everything falls away, your body molding to him as he pulls you closer.

 

“I fucked up.” The words flood your brain. Pain splinters through you and tears edge at the corners of your eyes at the memory. As much as he feels like home, he feels like betrayal too. Pushing off of him, you back up, collecting yourself before continuing, “I’m so proud of you Jay,“ you manage to say.

 

“I had to tell you right away,” he says, stepping closer. “You’re the first person I wanted to tell. The only person that matters.” He strokes his thumb across your cheek, his green eyes pleading.

 

Half of you wants to wrap your arms around him and kiss him again. The other half wants to tell him to leave. You don’t get a chance to choose.

 

Knock, knock, knock.

 

Fuck. You break away from him immediately. “Jay, you need to go.”

 

“What? Why?”

 

There’s no way to get around this. Reflexively you wipe your sweaty palms on your pants, your stomach flipping, as you move to open the door. “’Cause I have a date and that’s probably him,” you sigh.

 

“Excuse me, a date?” His face crumbles and tiny fractures spread over your heart. “With who?” he demands, his face hardening as he crosses the room.

 

“His name’s Chris.”

 

“Well let’s meet him then.” He gestures for you to open the door.

 

“No, you’re not meeting him. You’re going.” You gently push him over to the door. Sure enough, Chris is standing there with flowers in hand.

 

“So, this is the guy that thinks he can swoop in on my girl?” Jensen straightens his back, in an attempt to loom over Chris.

 

“Uh, hey, you must be Jensen. I’m Chris.” He meets Jensen’s eyes, holding out his hand. If he’s threatened he sure as hell isn’t showing it. His smile is challenging, cocky. Time seems to stop as the two men stand eye to eye.

 

You’re about to say something when time catches itself up and everything moves too quickly for you to process. The end result is that Jensen’s fist greets Chris’ face before he pushes past him on his way out the door.

 

“Shit!” You rush over to Chris.

 

He’s holding his eye, but he’s also smiling.

 

“What the hell was that?” you ask, half concerned, half chastising.

 

“That? That was a little male posturing, I think,” he says, laughing.

 

Air puffs out of your mouth as you release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding and you start laughing too.

 

“Well, I guess dinner is out.”

 

“Oh, I think we’ll find something else to do,” he says, giving you a devilish smirk.

 

—-

 

Sipping your coffee as you sketch at the counter scenes of last night flash through your mind. Chris’ lips on your neck, on your thighs… Jensen’s lips on your mouth… You shake your head. To say you’re conflicted would be the understatement of the year. It may be time to have a serious conversation with Chris. As if sensing your thoughts, he comes into the kitchen.

 

“Mmm, I love it when you lean over the counter like this,” he says, arms wrapping around your waist and hips rocking against you as he kisses your shoulder. His hands glide down to your hips, gripping them tightly and all thoughts of a serious conversation fly out of your mind. “Fuck, I want you so bad, right now,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear.

 

Distraction is so much better than reality, you think. “What are you waiting for?” you ask, your voice huskier than you intended.

 

Quickly your shorts are across the room and he’s pushing through your folds, filling you up. Arching against him, he drives into you, the drag of his cock intensified by the soreness from last night and you squeeze around him.

 

“Fuck. Do that again,” he growls.

 

You squeeze around him again and he groans, dropping down so his chest is pressing against your back. He snaps his hips, pushing the air out of your lungs with his thrust. He does it again, keeping the pace slow and hard. You rock against him desperate for more friction.

 

“I need you on the bed,” he growls, scooping you up.

 

Your squeals and laughter fill the apartment as he carries you down the hall, practically throwing you on the bed once he reaches your room. Grabbing your ankles he rolls you onto your stomach and crawls over you. “God, you’re perfect,” he says, nudging at your entrance, you lift your ass giving him access and he bottoms out with a groan.

 

He rolls his hips, kissing trails down your back and it’s an exquisite combination: chills racing down to settle at the base of your spine as he fills you up. And as much as you love the feel of him like this, you want to be close. Pushing up, you guide him to the head of the bed and spread your legs across his lap. Chest to chest, he holds you close, pulling you into a kiss as you lower onto him. Electricity zings over your body as you envelop him and slowly rock your hips.

 

You move faster, sensing he’s close, but his hips buck and he lifts you, rolling so you’re caged under him. Every movement is urgent and hungry; his mouth and lips searching out skin, his hands gripping you and his hips thrusting. Curling your fingers into his damp skin, you cling to him as he tilts his hips, focusing his thrusts on your sensitive ridge. Over and over he pounds into you until you’re over the edge, coming around him and crying out his name.

 

He sucks a dark mark onto your throat as he chases his release, his hips losing their rhythm before he comes with a final thrust.

 

“God! Y/N! Fuck!”

 

His breath is heavy in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as you both come down. After a moment he pops up, grinning down at you with that infectious smile. He drops a slow, gentle kiss on your lips.

 

“That was amazing.” He kisses you again.

 

—

 

Later, after your shower, you pad down the hall to find Chris crouched down in the living room looking through a stack of paintings, your paintings. He looks up when you walk in.

 

“What’re you doing?”

 

“I noticed these in the corner. Are these yours?”

 

“Yeah, that’s my little hobby,” you chuckle.

 

“Y/N, these are amazing. Why aren’t you displaying these in a gallery and selling them?”

 

“Because I don’t know if they’ll even sell and I don’t have the luxury of barely getting by. Someone has to pay the rent.”

 

“These are really good.” He’s up and crossing over to you, cupping your face, his blue eyes holding yours in their gaze. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

 

You look down; you never know what to say, “Thanks” feels wrong.

 

“Hey, look at me.” He gently lifts your face so you’re looking at him once more. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And I’m not talking about your face, which is perfect, I’m talking about you.” Your heart flutters and you want to look down, but you keep your eyes locked on his. “These paintings are amazing, you are amazing. I love them and I love you.”

 

“What?”

 

“I love you,” he says, smiling that smile that you have to return. He kisses you, “I love you.” He kisses you again, “Better out than in.”

 

He pulls you close, his arms tight around you, his thumping heart filling your ears. The safety of his arms is undeniable and you want to stay here forever, but a storm of emotions rages inside you, all of them strong, and none of them settling for too long.

 

—-

 

Later that week you’re listening to the radio as you get ready for work when a familiar song begins. You almost poke your eye out with the eye pencil as Jensen’s voice fills the room. His song, your song is playing on the radio. You stand in a trance, his voice filling your ears and tears rolling down your cheeks as you listen.

 

Suddenly, the trance is broken as the DJ comes on, “That was Jensen Ackles with his new song, “Y/N”. So, Jensen, can you tell us about the song?”

 

“Yeah, this song is about the love of my life. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever known.”

 

“She must be to have such a wonderful song written about her.”

 

“She is.”

 

“That’s great. Well, thanks for joining us. Again that was Jensen Ackles with his new hit song “Y/N.””

 

—-

 

Later that day Jensen is at your door. He doesn’t ask to come in, opting to stay in the doorway instead.

 

“I don’t want to intrude. I just wanted to tell you that I’ve quit. No more booze. No more drugs. The guys are in full support. Jason and Rob know how much you mean to me. I’m gonna change, Y/N. I promise you.”

 

It sounds like he practiced this little speech and you can’t hold back the smile tugging at the edge of your mouth. But hurt and anger quickly wipe the smile away. You’d get whiplash if you tried to keep track of the emotions running through you. You swallow thickly as longing rises from your chest, keeping your eyes down, knowing they’ll betray you.

 

“I heard the song today.”

 

“You did?” Jensen moves closer to you, gently taking your hand in his.

 

He doesn’t force you to look at him, he knows it makes you feel vulnerable, he just stands there with your hand in his, waiting.

 

“I’m not ready yet, Jay.”

 

“I know. I just want you to know that I’m working on it. On myself. To be better for you.”

 

“Thank you,” you say, finally looking up at him.

 

“I love you, Y/N.”

 

“I know.”

 

His lips brush your cheek and he leaves. Your heart aches as you close the door.

 

—-

 

“I’ll call you every day.” Kiss. “It’s only a month.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss, this one lasts longer, his tongue sweeping your lips as you part them.

 

Chris finally pulls back, his crystal blue eyes watching you, and you tip up to kiss him once more.

 

“I’ll miss you,” you say, lowering down.

 

“I’ll miss you too.”

 

With Chris gone you finally have some time to sort out your feelings, not that you have yet. You’ve also had more time to paint. And apparently having so many emotions running through you is great for your art. You’re painting when you hear your phone ringing. Wiping your hands on your apron you look at the caller ID – Chris. Smiling, you answer the call.

 

“Hey, how’s the filming going?”

 

“It’s good,” Chris answers, but there’s an edge to his voice. “Y/N, we need to talk.”

 

Your stomach feels like it’s falling from a skyscraper. “What’s up?” You try and fail to keep your voice light.

 

“I don’t ever want to keep things from you,” he takes a breath and the floodgates open. “I’m feeling things for my co-worker, and I can’t seem to shut it off. I’m so fucking confused right now, the only thing I know for sure is, I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

Stunned, you sit down.

 

“Y/N?”

 

“I’m here,” you croak.

 

"Please, say something.”

 

“What am I supposed to say? I can’t tell you how you should feel.”

 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I think maybe we should take a break until I can get my shit together.”

 

“I can’t talk about this right now. We’re on a break, got it. It’s not like we were together that long anyway. I’ve got to go.”

 

“No, Y/N. I love you. I-.”

 

“I’ve got to go, Chris.”

 

You end the call, dropping your phone on the counter. You feel numb. But you shouldn’t be surprised. Why would Chris be any different? Obviously something is wrong with you since every man you’re with manages to find someone they want more. Sadness, anger and emptiness war with each other to overtake you. Emptiness wins. Unable to yell or cry you tuck your head into your arms.

 

The month passes quickly while you bury yourself in your art. Jensen stops by a few times. He seems happy and healthy and you’re happy for him. But most of the month you’re alone with your thoughts.

 

You know the day Chris comes back. Besides it being marked on your calendar, you notice the curtains to his apartment window are open. The next day there’s a note under your door. You know you need to go talk to him, but you don’t want to. Sighing, you drag yourself to Chris’ door. His face lights up when he sees you and a small un-broken part of you is glad. His smile quickly fades when he takes in your face.

 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He grabs your shoulder, pulling you into him. “I was stupid.” Resting his chin on your head, he strokes your hair. “I was so worried about being honest with you that I freaked out when I couldn’t separate my feelings.” He pulls back, his blue eyes serious. “Nothing happened. I just didn’t know and I-.” His hands cup your face. “Say something.”

 

“I don’t know what to say. I’m glad that you were honest and that nothing happened, but I’m still hurt.”

 

“God, I’m an idiot.”

 

“Yes, you are.”

 

“Will you forgive me?”

 

Too many feelings, too many emotions, too much everything. You need to escape.

 

“I think I need some time and space.”

 

“Please forgive me. I’m so sorry. I won’t push, but please.”

 

A nod is all you can muster. You feel like you’re drowning; you need air. Pushing away from him, you rush back to your apartment.

 

Slumped against the door with your head between your legs the tears finally come. Sobs wrack your body and it feels like days before they stop. Once they do and you finally feel like your head is above water and you know what you need to do.


End file.
